Dear readers, here's another long chapter to tide you over. I'm so sorry it took so long.

Chapter 6 Singing

I sighed deeply as I rolled over and stared at the sunny window. I yawned, feeling lazy, and reached for Roselle's CD player, ready to listen to a violinist named Vivaldi. And suddenly...I fully realized...

I had time-traveled to the 21st century. I was living with two women who wore showy bikinis and lived in America. I had no way to get back to my own time and I would never, ever see Christine again. There was planes and space ships and rock and roll and computers and DVD's here. And I would never see Christine again.

Mon Dieu.

Reality slammed into me like a bucket of cold water. I would never see Christine again.

No, no, no...I could not survive here, I couldn't, not without Christine, God...I could feel myself going slightly mad.

But I must, and I will. Survival always came easy to me.

A knock at my door.

"Hey Erik, c'mon! We're taking you shopping today!"

I shuddered. "What if I don't want to?" I replied, acting childish enough to warrant a surprised silence on the other side of the door.

"We'll make you!" Abbey cajoled.

Abbey was a piece of work. Nothing daunted her; Roselle and she were so different. Where Abbey was loud and cheery, Roselle was usually quiet and solemn. Abbey was light and completely reckless, Roselle was mysterious and cautious.

"If you come, Roselle might sing for you!"

I perked. "We have a singer in this household?"

"NO!" Roselle shouted, then in a quieter voice, she said to Abbey, "Why did you have to tell him, why?"

I opened the door to see a mischievous Abbey and a red-faced, angry Rosalee.

"Will you sing for me?" I asked.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I suck, okay?" She mumbled, turning away and starting down the hall.

"No she doesn't, she's awesome!" Abbey called.

I caught up with Roselle. "You sing?"

"No, Erik. I'm bad. I won't sound like an Angel, and I'm too shy to do it anyway." She refused to look at me.

I knew she spoke of Christine. A shiver of sorrow twanged my spine, but I pushed thoughts of her away. "You must sing for me, when we return."

"Noooo! I get far too nervous and then I sound like a banshee." Roselle snapped.

"Oh, c'mon Rose! You can do it!" Abbey wheedled. "You know you can!"

"No I don't," the blonde woman said, but both Abbey and I could see her resolve wearing thin.

"Please, mademoiselle. I would be honored to here you sing." I said.

"When I get done you'll be insulted." Roselle sighed. "Alright, FINE."

A giant blue and gray building, with the words 'Walmart' attached, stood before me. The thing almost seemed to mock my sudden fear of all the cars and people. "I can't do this," I whispered to myself as a huge crowd of families rushed past me, through doors that slid open of their own accord. I realized that every time a person walked in front of the glass, it slid open to admit them or let them outside. Curious.

Another hoard of people. I could not do this.

I swallowed with paranoid anxiety and felt a hand on my arm. I flinched, but it was only Roselle. "It will be okay, Erik. Everyone will be too busy wrapped up in their own affairs to spare you more than a glance." Her gentle blue eyes did nothing to calm me. "No. I can't...I can't go in there." I ripped my arm away and began to walk back to the car. I felt them alongside me. "C'mon, Erik, it'll be fine!"

"No. No people. NO."

"Erik, this is ridiculous. Close your eyes if you must!" Abbey said impatiently, grabbing me and pulling me back. I fought her for a moment.

Then Roselle took my hand. It felt strange, really...holding some one else's hand...I stared at her with something like surprise. She squeezed my fingers in reassurance. "Nothing bad will happen, Erik. You will survive." I nodded slowly and removed my hand. It felt too alien, my skin touching another human being's.

Over the next 3 hours the girls bombarded me with clothes, socks, and underwear. I felt rather like a fashion marionette. We had our disagreements; some of the things they wanted me to wear were ridiculous. I flatly refused to wear shorts, and only just agreed to t-shirts. I preferred the button-up, long-sleeve shirts and dress pants. They were closer to what I was used to. It was very difficult to find a size that would fit, but eventually we were decided. I was happy to be done, but then they dragged me over to the cosmetics and picked up shampoo and deodorant, shaving cream and a razor. It was so very awkward, them buying me things. I was not used to it, for sure. After that Roselle remembered we needed groceries. But finally, with a bill of $270, we immerged from the store with an entire wardrobe. We somehow managed to stuff everything in the girl's little car- Yes, I had ridden in the blasted things. They really weren't bad- and get on the road. Wearily, we dragged ourselves and the bags into the house and sort of collapsed on the couch.

"Okay, Roselle. Time to sing."

"Abbey!"

"NOW!"

"Fine!" Roselle growled. She went to the kitchen and got a drink of water. "Do I have to?"

"Please, Rosalee, you cannot be that bad," I said impatiently. "Why are you so frightened?"

"I let all my emotions out when I sing and...well...that's difficult for me." Roselle stuttered.

"Calm yourself, Rose."

"What should I sing?"

"Think of Me!" Abbey squealed.

"Oh, gog no. C'mon Abbey!" Roselle glanced at me. "He knows that song!"

"It is from Hannibal, yes?" I asked.

"Yeah; Okay FINE, sing something from Celtic Woman."

Roselle sighed, and took several deep breathes.

My young love said to me,

"My mother wouldn't mind.

And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind."

And she stepped away from me,

and this she did say,

"It will not be long, love, till our wedding day."

She stepped away from me,

and she moved thru the fair.

And fondly I watched her move here and move there.

And she made her way onward,

with one star awake.

As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.

Last night she came to me,

she came softly. So

softly she came that

her feet made no din.

And she laid her hand on me, and

this she did say,

"It will not be long love, till our wedding day."

When she finished, Roselle flushed bright red and sat down, hiding her face in her hands and looking shyly at me.

I do not know what I expected, but I was pleased. "You sang well, Rosalee. No need to hide your face." She was, of course, not nearly as good a singer as Christine, and needed some tutelage, but she had wonderful potential. I had read on the...Internet...that this time still had a reasonably good opera community. And in America was a stage group called Broadway. If I trained her well, perhaps she could...yes. "Are you familiar with the song Lo, How a Rose?" I asked casually.

"Yes..." Roselle replied, suspiciously.

"Will you sing it for me?"

"I...I guess..." She took a trembling breath. Poor girl. She really was terrified.

"Lo, how a rose is blooming,

From tender stem hath sprung.

From Jesse's linage coming,

as men of old have sung..."

Roselle's voice suddenly became weak, and she swayed. Abbey and I both stood in alarm and supported her.

"I'm sorry Erik...I don't think I can sing anymore..." She said faintly.

"Do not fret. You mustn't lock your knees, mademoiselle. It cuts off the blood."

"I know, but..."

Abbey and I lead her to the couch and she sat down. "Breathe, Roselle. Deep breaths," Abbey said slowly and clearly. Roselle sighed and her head rested gently on my shoulder. I found a smile on my face, but, uncomfortable with her so close, leaned away. "You do have a lovely voice, my dear. With some guidance you would sing as one from Heaven."

Roselle laughed breathily. "It doesn't really matter. My voice isn't going to take me anywhere."

"That is untrue- I read about this stage group called Broadway--"

"Erik, no way. I almost fainted in front of two people...what would happen in front of 2000? Besides, I like my job."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Abbey cut in. "Hey, let's watch a movie."

Abbey and Roselle began to search thru a...what is it...DVD case, agreeing and denying movies.

Then they froze. "Ohmigod don't let him see that one," Abbey whispered. "I can't believe you brought it!"

"Well I didn't expect the real guy to be living in our house!" Roselle hissed, and tried to shove the DVD in a hidden place, but I swooped down and took it. "How bad can it..." I began teasingly, but as soon as I saw the front, I dropped it like a poisonous snake.

The top of the DVD read The Phantom of the Opera.

"You haven't told me of this." I observed. I wasn't angry...rather frazzled.

"Um...no...let's not watch it..." the girls whispered, reaching for it.

"I would like to view this piece about my life," I said in a dangerous voice.

"The thing is, though, it's not very much like your life. It's way different, actually, and-"

"Please, mademoiselles. I have the right."

Roselle and Abbey glanced fearfully at me, then at each other. "Okay...well...it's your loss."

They slid it in and sat next to me on the couch. The air was thick with tension.

I watched in a daze, reliving those horrible times in my life. True, it wasn't much like what really happened, but enough to remember...

By the time the Christine kissed the puesdo-Erik I didn't know how much more I could take...I could feel bloody murder within my veins, just thinking about that imbecile, that simpleton Raoul De Changy. I glanced over to the girls for the first time, needing to look at something else. To my surprise, Roselle had tears on her face. I raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at me. The girl blushed a deep red. "Sorry," she said, hastily brushing the crystals away. I always cry at that part and I haven't watched for a while..."

Roselle stared into my eyes, her sky orbs filled with woe. "I'm so sad for you. What happened...well, I sort of understand."

"Understand?" I said in a low, bitter voice. "How could you even begin to understand the pain I was- and am- in? Nay, you do not understand, mademoiselle!"

Abbey watched us and Roselle looked away, at her lap. "Let's just say I was in love with someone who...well...ended up not being so great."

"What do you mean?" I stood up, facing her. "Christine was wonderful. It was De Changy. He convinced her I meant harm. It was NOT Christine!"

"Are you so sure? I'm sorry, Erik, but I think you've been blinded."

"I? Never! Stop these blasphemies, NOW!" I shouted, glaring fire at her.

Ah...the sudden emotion in her eyes. "It' so easy, Erik, to believe some one loves you and cares about you and find out they don't give shit! It's so easy to fall for someone you think will treat you like a person and not some toy!"

Rage poured into me, and I gulped it greedily. "You know NOTHING of what was between Christine and I! Do not say another word!"

Abbey stood up. "Hey, people, let's-"

"Quiet!" I snapped at her, and spun around before I might hurt someone. I slammed my door behind me and threw myself on my bed.

Christine had loved me. Of course she had. But Raoul had convinced her that she didn't.

She'd been scared, that's all. That's why she went with Raoul. And of course he'd make her stay home, and not come to back to me. I'd do the same.

But something there sounded wrong. Incorrect. False. Covered-up.

No it didn't.. I was just upset. There was nothing untrue about Christine loving me.

Was there?

I breathed shakily and felt a few tears trail down my face. Memories, every memory I had of my love came pouring into my mind. I could not stop them.

Oh my blonde princess, my Scandinavian queen, my goddess, my everything, my all!

Why, oh why had the Lord created such a hideous monster like me? Why couldn't I have died as an infant and saved the world from my ugliness?

Tears poured ever faster.

It was going to be a long night.